The Day I Stopped Loving You
by Capheine
Summary: [One-shot] A month of stony silence, watching you cry, and wishing, wanting so much to make me stop loving you. [RH]


**-- The Day I Stopped Loving You --**

Friday July 09, 2004

**_Author's notes:_** _I'm not new to fanfiction, but this will be the first Harry Potter story I've written. Constructive criticism and flames are allowed, but good feedback and congratulations is preferred =P_

_ Thank you for taking the time to read this, and I hope you enjoy the story!_

**_Disclaimers: _**_Standard disclaimers apply._

* * *

I'm sitting on an engraved stone a distance away from you and Ginny. It's weird because I'm watching you laugh with my little sister, but we're in a cemetery.

Sheesh 'Mione, I thought you were the smart one.

But I can't help but kind of grin along with you, because it's good to see you happy again. Or at least pretending that you're happy. I can never really tell when you're faking something or when you really mean it. Call it a curse.

I know that I shouldn't even be watching you, even when I'm this far away and you can't really see me. I should be somewhere halfway around the world because 'Mione, I was supposed to stop loving you. But when did that happen?

It seems like ages ago, but it was probably just last month. Yea, I think it was just last month. A month ago when we stopped talking to each other. You tried to talk to me plenty of times… I just couldn't make myself talk back to you. I would just watch you as you tried, you tried so hard, to break this stony silence between us. And at times, I wanted to grab you by the shoulders and shake you, make you shut up and stop being such a lovesick idiot. Because you, 'Mione, are supposed to be the smart one. You're supposed to see all the hidden, secret messages that Harry and I never quite pick up and you're the one who tells us how to act and what to or not to do. You were supposed to be the smart one. But you just kept talking to me, when I just _couldn't_ talk to you.

And you kept crying. I hate to see you cry 'Mione. I keep feeling like I'm supposed to do something about, but it's too awkward, and I _can't_ do anything 'Mione. I _can't _do anything to stop those tears of yours, even when I really want to because it makes me feel guilty to see you cry. But what's a guy to do? I may be a teaspoon, but 'Mione you're the - the telephone! (or was it fellytone?) I don't know what buttons to push or which side to speak to… yea, you're just like that Hermione.

I hate to see you cry because it's horrible and it gets your face all red and your eyes all puffy. It makes you just a little less beautiful. But you are beautiful, 'Mione, I just wish I could tell you again.

But I'm supposed to stop loving you already.

I remember this one night long ago, when we were sitting in front of the common room fire. Even _I _could tell you that it was awkward and it felt too stuffy; like the squishy couch wasn't big enough for both of us to fit or the windows were shut, even when they were actually wide open.

My mouth felt really dry that night, but I don't know why. I probably just needed another Butterbeer. I still remember that night when we were sitting on the couch together and everything was awkward and stuffy and my mouth was dry, but I still remember it because I can say that I loved that night.

Because that night, you told me that we'd last forever. That we'd last forever and until death and you were twirling your hair when you said that, winding it around and around your pinky and staring determinedly into the fire.

You had the same look of determination plastered all over your tear-streaked face the last time I saw you, saying and promising that you'd never let go.

But where are we now 'Mione? Because we haven't talked in a month and we didn't last forever.

I wish we'd lasted forever.

I wish we'd lasted so that I could kiss you in front of everybody again and you'd try to squirm away, but eventually just call me a prat and give in. So I could still tickle you, and you'd still laugh until tears squeezed out of the corners of your eyes (then of course, you'd Stun me, but that part doesn't matter). Or even just so that I could get under your skin again and we'd have such a spectacular row that Harry would get angry at both of us for being immature and tell us off.

But my wishing doesn't change the fact that we didn't last forever… and that I still have to stop loving you.

The day that I stopped loving you seems so long ago, but it was just a month before today. Just a month ago when Harry finally defeated You-Know-Who (you'd probably tell me to call him the V-word, but I won't 'Mione, just because I won't) and everything was back to somewhat normal… or not.

It was just a month ago. Just a month ago since the day I stopped loving you.

Because the day I died was the day I had to stop loving you.

But I can't stop… and I'm still watching you and Ginny from atop my tombstone, watching you laugh at whatever joke before going back to that scary silence. It's scary when you're so quiet 'Mione. So scary when you aren't telling someone off for being irresponsible, or coming up with another brilliant plan that Harry, you and I could put into action. It's scary when you cry. I feel so guilty.

And I'm still supposed to stop loving you. But that doesn't matter. Because I'm still wishing (in a weird way) that we were still on that uncomfortable couch being awkward and stuffy… because at least I'd have you 'Mione. I'd have you to tickle and kiss out in public and argue with.

I'd still see you twirling your hair around your pinky, promising me forever.

Or until death do us part.

* * *

**_Author's notes: _**_No, I'm not blind, so yes, I can see that it's a short story ('tis a one-shot)… And keep in mind that I wrote this over the span of one day (it was one of my quicker fics). You can fill in the blanks yourself (I like leaving a few things to imagination). Amazingly, the length isn't a result of my laziness._

_ Again, thanks for your time!_

_ Please review if you have more time because I love feedback, whether it be good or bad. But I still prefer the good feedback (hehe, I can't help that I'm egotistical)._

Friday July 09, 2004


End file.
